Misadventures by the flooded planes,
Come to grass-speckled mirrors golden,
In the waning noon so special and mundane,
Forget the rest, it is a blessed life!

Step beside meandered streams,
In its tumble down old mercury's track,
A bowing breeze turns all to walking pace,
The pretty worlds is frozen still,
To frame the fawn among the reeds,
To halt the heavens through the trees.

Lately to sleep,
A little dally on the way,
Meandering thinks cause my feet not to tread,
Alas it is lately - the feet learn to walk,
The thoughts turn to bed and dally no more.

Sitting stairs,
To stare and sit,
To think and blink,
To tap and link,
Words together,
Like clinking chains,
Sinking into thoughts and rhymes,
Sinking into grace and mercy,
Sinking into warmer times.